


Coffee, Flowers, and Jingle Bells

by nfra3711



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bromance to Romance, Christmas Eve, Language of Flowers, M/M, kinda sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5542970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nfra3711/pseuds/nfra3711
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas Eve, and Shiraishi's been called in to his part-time job in place of a co-worker who bailed last minute. He miserably expects to spend the entire night working, but sometimes things go better than he thought they would. </p>
<p>Christmas sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4682408">Tea, Flowers, and First Encounter</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee, Flowers, and Jingle Bells

Of course he had to work on Christmas Eve.

Shiraishi was never exactly thrilled whenever something found its way to cripple his plans- his scrupulously, meticulously thought plans that took him four consecutive nights to perfect. It was only a week before Christmas, and he was happily humming and thumping around his dorm room, from one corner to another, packing up his things for his visit back home to Osaka. He hadn’t given much thought when his phone rang, as his head was up above the clouds playing Christmas jingles, looking forward to what his mother would have prepared for their family dinner. His voice was cheery when he answered the call, and wasn’t anymore when he found out it was from his boss from his part time job at the flower shop, unfortunately informing him that his co-worker had abruptly called in that she couldn’t make it to her shift on Christmas Eve. Which meant one simple thing; Shiraishi was expected to fill in for her. Now, it wasn’t like himself to raise his voice, especially making a long yelp on the phone with his employer on the other side- natural instincts could be a bitch sometimes.

But screeching aside, he was still expected to be there, prime time when the entire city would be buzzing and bumbling with parties and lights and live music like there was no tomorrow.

Despite all the ‘ _okay_ ’s and ‘ _good luck_ ’s, he could hear the air of disappointment coming from his parents when he’d called to tell them he wouldn’t be joining them for Christmas, as clear as though he had seen them standing right before him. He promised them he would come home before New Year’s Eve, and he meant it, and not even his boss’ erratic scheduling would stop him next time.

Shiraishi huffed as he tightened a frilly red ribbon around a diligently crafted bouquet. He slid a greeting card between the colorful flowers and placed the posy neatly on the work station. It always had a therapeutic effect, he found, to stand back and take a second or two to admire the result of his work; the combination of vast knowledge of floral combinations and bright, freshly hand picked flowers, topped with the subtlest message transcribed among the different kinds and colors of flowers that only few who bothered to learn would be able to comprehend, then sprinkled with laces and bows and a few stickers here and there. _Ecstatic_ , if he could say so himself.

Still, it was painfully easy to lose one’s self in the moment when faced with something so lovely and fair and pleasing to the eye. He flipped his notebook open to make sure when the client who ordered it would come back to the store to pick it up. After scribbling the client’s name and the exact hour on a post-it note and stuck it on the plastic wrapper of the bouquet, he went back to his to-do list for the night. He sighed. That was the 12th order he had finished since his shift began, and he had another twenty more before he could even think of calling it a night. It would have definitely taken him so much less time if only he hadn’t been particularly picky about which flowers he should use- what color and what size and what combination and how many- he could just throw in whatever he thought looked passable enough- besides, not that the customers would be able to tell the difference. But he was Shiraishi and Shiraishi had his own life rules and principles. He would never, ever disregard and disrespect beautiful flowers that way— and the customers, of course.

Customers walked in and out, some to pick up the flowers they had ordered beforehand, others to pick some at the spot to buy. Many of them approached him to ask for advice and his opinion; a lot of _‘I need something cute for my little sister_ ,’ ‘ _I’m spending the holidays in my grandparents’_ ,’ ‘ _I plan to ask my boyfriend to marry me._ ’ A few times Shiraishi paused to give it a thought. While he was quite a big deal in a lot of friend groups in his campus, he had never actually thought of finding that special someone. Normally he wouldn’t exactly give it his time of the day, but his interests and curiosity couldn’t help getting piqued every other special occasion. He gazed up from the arrangement of reds and whites he was working on, finding his eyes locked on a couple in one corner of the store; arms slouched lovingly against each other’s shoulder, matching sweaters, exchanging giggles and sliding kisses when they thought no one was paying enough attention. Shiraishi had had a few significant others, and he’d definitely experienced the times when wearing matching articles of clothing and swapping gifts on the first date anniversary felt special. But those were things that were simply beyond him, at least, for the time being, or so he thought.

Staring down at the half finished work lying underneath him, a sigh escaped his lips as he carefully stroked a flower petal- color rich and texture velvety- deciding that the lifelong contemplations could wait until he was finished with work.

“You sure are really into that floret.”

Shiraishi gaped, almost jumped from his slouching position against his work station, only to lean back forward just in time to catch the tiny clay pot that he had accidentally shoved off the desk.

Putting the pot back further away from the desk corner while catching his breath, he attempted his friendliest smile to greet the customer now standing in front of him.

“I’m very, terribly for that. How can I help y—“

His words were stuck.

The customer, hair curly in deep shades of blue, skin fair and knitted scarf sitting securely around his neck, let out a chuckle. He raised a hand and gave him the tiniest wave, an elegant twirling of fingers that was somehow the most attractive thing for Shiraishi right now.

“Hey,” he continued to chuckle, as if he took amusement from watching Shiraishi’s involuntary diffidence. “I’m sorry, was it that important?”

Shiraishi blinked, then looked back at his unfinished work. It took him a moment to register what the question was even saying.

“Oh,” he paused bashfully, “No, no! Not at all!”

He smiled, the vague ingenuity earned him a raise of the eyebrows from the dark haired customer.

“Just one order from the remaining, oh, I don’t know, fifteen that I have to finish tonight.”

“You didn’t strike me as the sarcastic one,” the customer commented.

Shiraishi could only sigh in defeat; there was a significant portion of truth that he couldn’t deny in that statement. Sarcasm and sass weren’t really his style, especially at work, where he aimed to be as polite and gentle as possible with all of his customers. But there were instances where he just had to draw the line, where he couldn’t push the façade everyone wanted to see up to the surface- and this was one of them.

“Ruined plans and unexpected night shifts on Christmas Eve out of all times do that to you, I suppose.”  The blond looked up. “What can I get you, Yukimura?”

Choosing to skip the answering, Yukimura put a tray holding a pair of identical paper cups, colors and logo showing they came from a nearby coffee shop he and Shiraishi often visited  to discuss assignments or simply just to hang out. He took one of the cups off the tray and placed it in front of his light-haired friend.

“No tea this time?” Shiraishi gave Yukimura a tiny nod as he grabbed the cup, not having to take a sip to know that it was a skimmed double shot with extra cinnamon- perfectly the way he always wanted it.

“There’s always something for the right time.” Yukimura chuckled, taking the other paper cup into his hand and leaned into the desk, taking a sip of his coffee. “And you definitely need that extra kick right now.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Hm, if you really feel that way, you know I’d never mind a smile from my favorite florist in town.”

Shiraishi stared at him, before deciding he’d better resume his work. Occasional coffee and treats aside, if being friends with Yukimura had taught him anything, it was that the young man had an unusual liking to pressing other people’s buttons in the most tenuous ways. He’d learned that it meant Yukimura liked him enough to tease him, but in a lot of times, times like these, that hobby could be a little bit provoking.

… And yet somehow, Shiraishi  didn’t want him to stop.

“So,” Yukimura continued, staring intently at the flowers Shiraishi was working with. “Ruined plans, huh?” He tapped his fingers on the desk a few times. “Girlfriend?”

“Family.”

“No girlfriend?”

“Not at the moment.”

“That’s a shame. How about—“

“No. No boyfriend either.”

Shiraishi had expected Yukimura to flash him a pout, as he always did when Shiraishi somehow managed to guess what his next words would be. It seemed that the other boy wasn’t very fond of getting interrupted, much less getting his mind read. Shiraishi on the other hand, always found the quirk rather adorable.

“How about you, though?” He asked, before Yukimura could shower him with a train of following questions delicately designed just to spite him. “Surely you have something else planned for Christmas Eve other than creeping on the resident part time florist all night?”

“Maybe.” Yukimura answered easily, his fingers playing idly with a piece of ribbon cut from Shiraishi’s recently finished bouquet. “But I find this more rewarding.”

“What, watching my frustration and rubbing salt on my wound?”

The blue haired laughed, and it made Shiraishi sigh again. It did, however, induced a small tug in the corner of his lips. Damn was his laughter contagious!

“I have something for you.” Yukimura halted his laugh into a low giggle, as he put his cup on the desk and started to dig into his shoulder bag.

“More coffee?” Shiraishi commented dryly, but his eyes found themselves fixed on Yukimura’s bag. It was different today, not the one with the Chrysanthemums and Acanthus that the shorter boy wore to campus everyday. Instead there were artistic embroideries of spruce and pine trees and mistletoes amidst swirly patterns, and it made Shiraishi wonder if Yukimura secretly had a whole stash of shoulder bags that he could choose from depending on the occasion. He wasn’t sure what to think of it.

“Unfortunately, no.”

Before Shiraishi could rise further questions, his face was greeted by a bunch of flowers, the colors calm complimenting each other, forming a beautiful view that of a delicately crafted posy.

“Remember when we first met?” Yukimura gave him a gentle smile, courteously studying the hints of surprise in his friend’s face. No matter how tired or upset Shiraishi was, Yukimura’d learned that his facial expressions would always show nothing but the truth, and he had taken a habit to take comfort in that fact. “You gave me a bouquet. I decided I wanted to try my hands on making one as well. It’s probably not as good as the ones you make here, but I’m quite fond of it.”

Shiraishi’s eyes shifted from a portion of the posy to another. Gypsophila. Casablanca. A rich splash of Bachelor Buttons. A mixture of messages that he couldn’t quite yet compile.

“I think it looks lovely.” Shiraishi nodded, examining the arrangements a bit more before making another nod, this time in approval. He could see that Yukimura took the time to make it look presentable. “Where did you get these flowers?”

“Oh, I have a few friends who work at the greenhouse. I just asked for their… _help_ to get what I needed.”

There was a tiny change in Yukimura’s tone that, had Shiraishi not known him as well as he did, he would have believed that he was actually telling the truth. Of course it was never that simple with Yukimura. He could only hope that small arrangements of pretty flowers resting in his hands wouldn’t land him in unwanted problems, though.

It only took a few more minutes of idle chatting before Yukimura decided he should leave Shiraishi to return to his work (and if Shiraishi could be frank, about time!). They exchanged a couple of ‘ _Merry Christmas!’_ and ‘ _Happy Holidays_!’ before Yukimura was out from the store.

Shiraishi sighed in content. He could now freely continue doing his pile of bouquet orders, and even better, with a newly found motivation. As weird as it was, Yukimura’s unexpected visit and his questions and comments that were in the verge of lacking of personal boundaries, to the perfect cup of coffee he left for him to enjoy and the flowers- Shiraishi couldn’t not smile. As weird as the other boy was, he really had his way to express affection.

He put Yukimura’s flowers next to him, giving it another adoring gaze. He was about to dive in to the next order when his eye caught the card that was sticking out of the flowers. It was almost unnoticeable, and he’d missed it the first time.

He guessed it would be another season’s greeting, and almost completely overlooked it. When he did find out what the card actually said, however, he had to re-read the entire thing over and over again.   

> _Booked us dinner for tomorrow. Meet me in front of the dorms at 7. Dress sharp!_
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Seiichi_

Below his name was a drawing of the Dahlia flower, a couple of mistletoes, and some tiny hearts surrounding them.

Shiraishi learned that when he said Yukimura had weird ways to express his affection, he was underestimating it.

Yukimura Seiichi had weird ways to express his affection, and also had a liking to confuse the hell out of him with his subtlest messages and mixed signals.

**Author's Note:**

> Gypsophila represents innocence and festivity and Casablanca means celebration, while Bachelor Button expresses anticipation.


End file.
